One Day at The Dal
by Scarletglow
Summary: Bo is working at a coffee shop post-graduation to fund college tuition, when a new girl (Lauren) joins her friendly little team. Unfortunately, things don't go as friendly as expected. All human AU. Doccubus, maybe some Valkubus, then more Doccubus. Rating will probably change to M in future chapters.
1. New Girl

A/N: Hey everyone! First fanfic in awhile, I had an idea and thought I'd go with it.. it takes place after Bo's senior year of high school. Let me know what you think and if you want to see more!

Rating may go up in future chapters.

**Chapter 1**

A heavy-lidded glare followed by the words "I said no sugar. This has sugar. Please make a new one" and Bo knew immediately who it was.

Bo stared at the lady before her - a thin, wrinkled figure harboring a bob of brownish hair in a typical _mom cut_, with red lipstick that she'd likely just purchased. She'd probably been excited to wear it too, as if putting it on suddenly made her a new person, somehow more sophisticated. Make-up caked on, but a clear line between the light-tan of her face and her pale neck - acne bumps shone through the cover of her foundation on the canvas of her face, their red-ness concealed, but the swells still there, like landmarks on the frontiers of her cheeks. She had bright-red cheeks too, but no amount of blush gave her the high-cheekbones she likely desired.

She wasn't a person to Bo - she was a type - one of the many types of people who she dealt with at The Dal - the coffee shop she'd been working at for a month. There was the bum type, the guys with a tangled wire of a grey beard and breath that smelt like a mixture of tobacco and marijuana, red eyes, glazed over as they mumbled their orders in monotone, stumbling between words, barely able to pronounce "cappuccino" - they often hit on Bo too, some of them slipped her a number and gave her a wink, and she'd be forced to smile as if she weren't suppressing a gag.

Bo had a name in her small town, upon finishing her senior year of high school, she was known – or about as known as an 18 year old could be. She was never _super_ popular, not one of those girls who attracted a crowd of friends, or fans, that shadowed them throughout the halls, but she always did well with the opposite sex - and the same-sex for that matter. Junior year she'd spent her fair share of time at bars, partaking in one sexual act after the other, the atmosphere somehow providing her with an ever-present sex-drive. But she lost interest in people as quickly as she gained it, breaking hearts without trying as she forgot their names and didn't answer their calls – no one could keep her attention.

"Ma'am, my _sincerest_ apologies, your new one will be right up," Bo said to the lady, her smile saying anything but. Her co-worker, Dyson, a man who showed more tattoos than skin, gave her a knowing-glance, the kind of glance that said both _I'm sorry you have to deal with this _and_ I'm so glad it's not me_. It was the same thing, day after day, a drone of days slurred together, handling the same difficult customers, the smells of stale coffee thick on their breaths as they complained, and Bo had to cater to their every need. The only small retribution being the ability to laugh about it with her co-workers, to mumble under her breath about the _audacity_ of them… but this is what it had come to. A minimum-wage summer job to fund her college tuition (the college she hadn't yet applied for, as she was nowhere close to gathering enough money), to stop herself from paying loans for the rest of her life. Or, at least, to cut the number of loans she'd carry on after death. There was hardly a sense of gain present in these 40-hour weeks, just consistent, tedious same-ness.

"So, what are we doing after work? Bar? Strip club?" A blonde approached Bo waggling her eyebrows.

"No and uh, _definitely_ not," Bo offered a mocking grin, the kind of grin that told people she was not to be crossed (unfortunately, said blonde never received this message). When her boss, Trick, gave her this job, Bo had vowed to do away with her old ways and begin developing a new, more responsible persona that she'd carry on to college. That, of course, meant no more bars. The question had been a product of another one of her co-workers, Tamsin - the only one wearing the hideous green apron that they were _supposed_ to wear, but Bo had sworn against it, claiming it choked her neck – Tamsin also modeled tight jeans and a noose of grey pearls.

"Did someone say strip club? Count me in," Dyson yelled over the drone of the coffee-maker, without bothering to glance their way.

"Come on BoBo, drinks on me," Tamsin begged, ignoring Dyson and tugging at the arm of her friend who was punching numbers into the cash register. "Well, drinks are on these babies," she added, gesturing toward her boobs.

"No way," Bo laughed. "You know I don't do that anymore. There's nothing you can say that'd convince me otherwise."

"Oh my god, you are _so boring_. What are you going to do, then? Besides suck every ounce of fun from everyone around you."

"I'm going to fall asleep drowning in my sorrows from this god-forsaken job," she cast a brief-glance to the office in the back-room where Trick was on the phone, to make sure he couldn't hear her.

"That's pathetic."

"If insulting is your tactic to convince me, it's not going to work... _yes, ma'am, that'll be 3.95.. thank you, have a nice day_."

"Are you really, honestly going to leave me with Dyson as a wing-man?" her tone laced with mock-horror as Dyson offered a wide grin, Tamsin glaring at him as if to say _remember what happened last time, and the time before that, and the time before that_...

"I'm supposed to train that new-girl, that'll be enough to drain me for a week," Bo yawned, providing the weak excuse as she glanced at her watch. "4:30... shouldn't she be here soon?"

"Hey," Tamsin nudged Dyson. "This_ is_ the most excitement Bo's had in weeks, huh? Newbie coming in… more thrills than her future wedding day."

Bo made a face, glancing again at her watch as if expecting it to have moved in the span of 5 seconds. Then, she remembered the saying, a watched pot never boils… or something relatable like that... and shoved the piece of metal under her sleeve. Tamsin and Dyson had been here for over a year, so this kind of thing was second-nature to them… but truthfully, it was Bo's first time assigned to the duty of training, and she was slightly nervous… although, she made sure no one could tell from her actions as she easily rang each customer up, thankful business was slow today, a smile painted on her lips (always smile, it makes people feel welcome, Trick had told her).

"Don't you know Bo will never change her mind?" She heard Dyson tell Tamsin, a few feet away from her. "She's more stubborn than… you."

"_Hey_, I'm right here," Bo seethed.

"It's okay, we'll have fun without her," Tamsin assured him, pretending not to have heard Bo – she'd clearly resigned to the fact that there was no changing the girl's mind.

"When do you think she'll be here?" Bo wondered, subtly changing the subject. Her thoughts remained on her new trainee, but she tried not to sound too eager, or worried, not wanting her co-workers to know that she harbored any anxiety on the matter.

Tamsin shrugged, obviously lacking interest and Dyson mumbled something inaudibly and turned the coffee grinder back on, the buzz bouncing off the walls of the shop and mixing with the old-school music to create a sense of havoc... rain slammed the ground outside, smashing like bullets, the dark sky hovering overhead like a crater. This was totally a Netflix, soft blanket, jar of peanut-butter sort of night… while Tamsin and Dyson were getting soaked waiting in line for a bar or strip club, she'd be snuggled up in bed, _having fun_ – the _new_ Bo's idea of fun.

A bell installed to the door announced whenever a customer came in. Trick had installed it recently, evidently to force Bo and friends to look up from whatever they were gossiping about, but Bo saw it as a canyon that went off constantly to disturb her… whenever she heard it, she dragged her chin up and rolled her eyes, guessing each person's order... _a cup of coffee, black, a sugar-free scone.. er, not black, add a bit of cream, and uh, nevermind on the scone, I'm trying to lose a few pounds_... she'd then proceed to lazily wash the counter. The bell hadn't went off for a good 20 minutes which was a positive omen, it told Bo it'd be a slow day and she could listen to Tamsin and Dyson prattle on about their plans for the night – not exactly her _choice_ activity, but it beat ringing up expressos.

4:45. Bo had stolen a glance at her watch despite telling herself not to – she couldn't help herself, time dragged by so slow here that she sometimes wondered if it had stopped… if time was this slow when she'd taken her math test, she wouldn't have left that class with a C. The new girl would be here any minute, and training would commence. Not a monumental event in life, but it'd give Bo something to do for the next few hours – she could only take listening to gossip in small increments.

_The new girl_. It was like one of those movies – there'd be something peculiar about her. She'd be bat-crazy or evil or secretly run a drug-business on the side … but likely, none of that would be true. Real life was not that exciting. Likely, she'd get fired within a few weeks because Trick was very attentive to details and conservative with who he hired, not many people lasted, and then Bo would feel responsible… but still, out of lack of excitement in her life, all the possible scenarios escalated through her mind.

She stood in a daze, appreciating the near-empty Dal in that moment… the lighting was a soothing contrast to the weather outside, a feint, almost romantic glow of colored bulbs, the kind that crooned the faces under them, giving even the ugliest of complexions a heavenly glow. The red couches were nestled together as if protecting each other, the whole group surrounding a coffee-table and creating a homey atmosphere – if she didn't work here, Bo wouldn't mind sitting down on one of the couches just to relax.

She flinched when the door rang. Her sweet 20 minutes had so quickly ceased, the fragile silence broken like thin glass, like it'd never been whole to begin with. She glanced at the door, carrying her same painted-smile with eyes that harvested the depths of her weariness…

The figure who entered the shop had blonde hair, longer and more honey-colored than Tamsin's, mixed with subtle streaks of brown, framing her head in graceful, portrait-like waves. Pink lips stripped of any façade of dark lipstick and skin that didn't need lighting to emanate a natural glow… deep, chocolate eyes that twinkled under the lamps, and (it took Bo a moment to look away from her face) _that_ body. Her mouth dried as the woman got closer, watching the model-like movement of her long legs… ass-hugging jeans covering their perfectly toned structure and, Bo glanced up... a _The Dal_ shirt covering the swell of her breasts.

This was Lauren, her new trainee.


	2. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

**Chapter 2**

"Hi. You're Bo, right? I'm Lauren... which, I'm sure you've figured out by now," the woman chuckled as she approached, her throaty laugh low and warm like a mug of steaming cocoa as she offered a hand of painted finger-nails. She blushed, but the color faded so quickly Bo was unsure if it'd ever been.

For a moment, Bo stared at the hand offered to her, unsure of what to do with it, but she quickly caught herself and shook... it was warm like she'd imagined, and now Lauren was so close to her (although still on the other side of the counter) that she nearly forgot to speak.

"Lauren," Bo finally managed with a gulp. "Nice to meet you. Come this way and we'll get you set up," she gestured, surprised at her own ability to formulate words as the new girl's intoxicating scent of vanilla and lavender teased her nose. The other woman, however, seemed put-together. Bo broke her gaze only to glance over at Tamsin and Dyson. Tamsin was leaning against the counter, dark, laughing eyes cutting into Bo's skin, wearing her knowing smirk - Bo hated that smirk - she always knew post-smirk tradition warranted a round of teasing, which she was not ready for.

Bo led Lauren to the office to receive her clock-in number and get set up with Trick, trying not to stare at her ass as she tailed her... (_be professional, be professional)_... mouth still so dry, lips cemented together (_this is lust, that's it, you know nothing about this woman_).

Upon entering the room, Bo ushered Lauren over to her boss and opened her mouth to introduce him, but the old man spoke before she got the chance. "Lauren! I'm so happy you've decided to join us," Trick jumped out of his chair at the sight of the taller blonde (not that standing brought him any closer to her height). Bo noted his odd word choice – _you've_ decided to join _us_, as if Lauren was the one honoring The Dal with the gift of her presence rather than Trick paying her a favor by hiring her – such as he'd done with Bo.

"Yeah, well, anything for my ex-mentor," she winked, and he chuckled, the two evidently sharing some sort of an inside joke. Bo stood uncomfortably beside them, still struggling to keep her gaze in a professional place as Trick sat back down to punch some numbers into his computer and give Lauren her clock-in digits. The two of them shared some light chatter, the kind of chatter that two familiar people engaged in when someone unfamiliar shared the same room. Bo leaned against the door, her eyes trained to the ground to avoid Tamsin's mocking gaze through the office's glass wall. She silently went through the order in which she planned to show Lauren the machines.

About 10 minutes later, Trick turned Lauren back over to Bo.

"Well, I suppose we'll start over here," Bo said, promptly escorting Lauren to the Microwave Area, as far as possible from Tamsin and Dyson. She was _not_ in the mood to deal with their teasing.

* * *

><p>The task of showing Lauren around, Bo soon realized, was ten times more difficult when unable to think about her trainee with a tame mind. She had to constantly swallow, words caught in her throat much more often than usual as she showed her each piece of the machinery… <em>and this is how you make a latte… and this is the register, drinks on this side, food over here, er yeah, duh… um, if they give you a credit card, click this<em>...

Lauren nodded, only occasionally asking a question for clarification if Bo spoke too softly, but otherwise easily taking everything in. Bo could tell this was all simple to her - training was a mere protocol that she probably didn't need. However, the woman, although not saying much, did seem to hover closer to Bo's body than necessary, causing a constant thrumming in her stomach. And Bo wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Hey. Leave room for Jesus, bitches."

Tamsin's voice startled the brunette out of her trance. The woman abandoned Dyson and walked over to join the two of them, offering Lauren a hand (they jumped apart quickly as she neared).

"Tamsin. Shift leader."

Lauren grinned. "Lauren. Well… you know what I am."

Bo rolled her eyes, ignoring Tamsin's interruption as she continued facing Lauren to complete her assignment. "Well anyway... that's about it," she finished, slapping a folder on the counter. "Oh right, if anyone comes in asking for a job application, give them one of these forms."

"Thank you, really," Lauren smiled, curving her lips in such a way that allowed a trace of a dimple to form on her cheekbones.

Bo, entranced and unsure what to say or do next, glanced over to Dyson for support. Upon meeting her eyes, he looked in the opposite direction … _asshole. _She stared helplessly at the folder of papers, half of which were probably crumbled up (they served as good methods of anger management when one of them - usually Bo or Tamsin - needed them). But right now, Bo wished she was one of the papers, snuggled soundly in their manila-folder protection - _they_ didn't have to deal with an incredibly attractive and clearly intelligent new employee. All she had left for support was Tamsin, whose smug _I knew you'd need me_ grin almost made Bo want to give up and take on the task of conversing with Lauren on her own. But, before she could reconsider, Tamsin had returned.

"So, Lauren. I take it Bo here," she slapped her friend on the shoulder, "has finished showing you the ropes of this place?"

"You could say that," Lauren chuckled softly, speaking up for the first time.

"Hmm? Was she not showing you around like she was supposed to? Because I could kill her for you, if you want," Tamsin flashed pearl-white teeth to show she was joking. Sort of.

"Oh no, she showed me everything just fine," Lauren clarified, raising her voice. She laughed softly, the low, sing-song sound ripping through the quiet hum of coffee shop music. "I just think, she was uh, a little too busy staring at my _butt_ to teach me how to make coffee properly."

Bo choked on her sip of water.

"_Excuse me_?"

"Oh no, I'm not saying it was a problem. I'm experienced in the art of expresso-making, so feel free to let your eyes wander."

"My eyes weren't _wandering_ anywhere… someone has quite the ego, though," Bo crossed her arms, her mood flipping from attraction to anger faster than the flick of a switch on the expresso-machine. Was she really getting in an argument with someone she'd just met? Bo didn't necessary have a first-class certificate in co-worker etiquette, but she knew enough to know Lauren's comment wasn't one that should be made on the first hour of a new job. She faced the woman, body taking on a challenging stance. Her previously twinkling blue eyes now emitted a hard, dark stare. Tamsin should be thanking God she was off the hook now.

"As a former restaurant manager who has trained many new employees and had to sort out the good from the bad," Lauren began, the light innocence previously embedded in her flawless skin fading off like old make-up. "I notice these things."

"So you're calling me the bad?" Bo flared.

"That is what I implied," Lauren said quietly, rewarding her brunette co-worker with a small smile. "Smart and beautiful, you're quite the catch."

Did she really just - _no_. There was no way Bo would let Lauren get out of this brawl with the upper-hand - _as if_ this new employee could expect to call her out and get away with it. If she noticed Bo's attraction, the brunette reasoned, there must be a_ part_ of her that wanted it to be there… and Bo would milk that part for all it was worth.

Old Bo was back.

The brunette's angry glare morphed into a devilish grin in a matter of seconds. She neared Lauren slowly, leaning close enough so the blonde woman could feel the steady pattern of warm breath flutter across her neck. She could swear she noticed a row of goose-bumps scale her skin in response. "You sure that's the word choice you wanna use, Miss Lewis?" she whispered seductively into her ear, her lips nearly touching the flesh.

Lauren made a fatal mistake. Upon hearing Bo's whisper, she paused for a second too long - a long enough time that Bo could tell she had an effect on the woman. Her reply, "Mm, I'm sure," came as firm as ever, but Bo could see the clear effort she put into keeping her composure.

"Well," Bo took a step back. "I think you've failed to get a proper read on me, then."

"Really?" The beginning creases of a smirk teased Lauren's lips again. _Not a good sign_.

"So, you didn't stop breathing for a second when I entered the shop?" Lauren challenged. "You didn't _stumble_ over your words because you were so _enamored_ by me? You didn't recite your duties of trainer in monotone because you were so distracted by me? And right now," Lauren licked her lips, lowering her voice. "You're not still struggling to keep your thighs from clenching."

Bo's breath caught. She opened her mouth to reply, and just as it happened, Lauren pulled out a wallet from her pocket. She flicked open an ID card, tilting toward the now jaw-dropped Tamsin. "Currently studying law at UCLA. It's not hard for me to read people. But I'm here because I need the money," she turned back to Bo "and also because it's quite informative."

Bo seethed. The internal struggle between her attraction and anger fueled the flames inside her, causing her white-knuckled fists to clench, her eyes to burn with fury as she glared at Lauren. The dim light overhead cast a dark shadow on her furrowed brows. "You don't know anything."

"Oh, _au contraire_. I know quite a lot," The smug grin had not left Lauren's face. However, she was smart enough not to comment further.

Silence pierced the air like a sharp razor as the two stared at each other, each continuing to challenge the other, the tension palpable - Tamsin standing a few feet away wide-eyed and (for the first time in her life) lost for words. Dyson was on the other side of the room, distracted by a football game on the television, missing the entire interaction (probably regrettably, too, as Bo knew he quite enjoyed drama).

"Ladies, ladies!" Tamsin cleared her throat, breaking the silence at last when she finally regained the gift of speech. She stepped between the two of them to act as a sexy, blonde barrier. Tamsin, Bo noticed, seemed to be enjoying all of this, her agape mouth turning into a subtle smile as she claimed her rightful spot between them. "Let's save this for after work, alright. Say, at the bar? Tonight?" She waggled her eyebrows at Lauren suggestively, having already given up on Bo. "Please join me? Co-worker bonding is a thing, you know."

"Well, I was dry on plans for the night. Seems like a good distraction," Lauren agreed at once, having taken to scrubbing under the counter in a way that allowed her back-side to face the fuming Bo's direction.

"I'll see you tonight, at the bar, then," Bo retorted through clenched teeth.

Tamsin let out a mock-gasp. "You're –"

"Yes, Tamsin, to answer your question," Bo cut in. "I'm going to the bar tonight, just as we planned! A girls gotta have fun sometimes, like I'm _always_ telling you, right?"


	3. Surprise!

A/N: Hey guys! Just wanted to say, I appreciate any feedback you have, and please keep it coming… reading comments really does make my day! And yes, I may flirt with the pairing of Valkubus in this, but in the end Doccubus is this story's end game. I plan on posting consistently as long as I'm not too busy, so updates will keep coming!

**_Chapter 3_**

The sun tiptoed under a mask of dark clouds, allowing the moon to make its first appearance, dripping down and casting an ambient glow over the broad scape of Bo's front yard. A blanket of stars decorated the sky as 9 p.m. came and went. Two hours had passed since she'd been released from her shift, and Bo sat alone on the soft cushioning of her bed. Her mom was out for the night, and it'd be another hour before Tamsin arrived to pick her up - but there was something romantic about the lonesomeness. It was the quiet, maybe - the lack of people's voices that allowed the silent echo of stoic air, only occasionally disturbed by the soft lull of her sleeping cat's breaths.

As she stood up, walking toward the large, full-length mirror that lined her close, she felt like a character from a corny movie. It was so cliché, but when she looked at herself, she saw another body, a person she didn't recognize, as if studying and interpreting the actions of someone through a delicate screen. The last few hours - meeting Lauren - had only added to this unearthly feeling. What kind of ego did a person have to possess to call out their co-worker on the first day of a job? What sort of insane movie had she entered, where the psychotic new girl could somehow read her so well? She still seethed. The _nerve_ of her. And now, she was going to the bar for the first time since starting her job at The Dal.

In the past, Bo's extravaganzas at the bars had been easy, simple events, with a clear purpose in mind – find someone and have sex. Not so difficult in an atmosphere with staggering drunks and seductive music. But now, her nerves hit her constantly, like tidal waves flooding through her entire body. She had something to prove, or whatever - she didn't want to get all deep about it, but this was about _one-upping_ Lauren. And Bo had to admit, she did look hot. She'd always been quick to get ready, -the person waiting, bored, while all her friends were still picking out a shade of lipstick, onto their umpteenth outfit _(but something looks weird about this one, doesn't it?), _changing their minds for the tenth time on whether to put on boots or flats.

Bo always relied on her trusty supply of tight black leather to accentuate her assets, slapping it on and not worrying about anything else. But today, she'd put genuine effort into her appearance, showering the moment she got home and, maybe not going through a whole closet of dresses like some people, but refusing to settle on the first semi-decent article of clothing she tried on. She'd gone through about four dresses before settling on a tight red one. She still thought leather would do the trick, but thinking of Tamsin's reaction if she'd showed up looking like anything less than the model of femininity, she caved.

She had to admit, gazing at her reflection in the mirror, the dress did allow an easy view of the depths of her toned legs and accentuated the graceful swell of her breasts. She'd spent extra time on the careful application of her make-up and the styling of her hair into delicate brunette waves –if she'd spent any longer, she'd probably turn into a type-A mom-lady from the coffee shop. She had to put an end to the madness at some point. Unplugging the curling iron felt like swallowing a large breath of fresh air, releasing her from mission feminize-Bo that Tamsin had sworn would capture the eyes of Lauren Lewis.

Bo was dying to talk to Tamsin. Their only chance had been briefly upon getting released from their shifts, when Tamsin had whispered into her ear a (color-coded, alphabetized) list of what to wear and how to act at the bar, but other than that she had no opportunity to rant about Lauren. Dyson –_the asshole _– probably wouldn't listen, and her other co-worker Kenzi was on a two-week vacation to Cancun. If she'd been available, though, the teasing would've been amped from Tamsin's classic _'Bo and Lauren sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g'_ to Kenzi's famous_ 'let me know when you're gonna fuck her so I can be on the other side of town.'_ She snorted, missing her shorter, Russian companion.

After 45 minutes of thought-less activities done solely to pass the time, the roar of Tamsin's engine up her driveway cut through the window. Bo sprang up, gathering her wallet and ID, grabbing a light sweater and rushing to meet her and Dyson (the bitch in shotgun) in the car.

* * *

><p>"You," Tamsin paused as if to let the word stick in the air as Bo stepped outside, "look hot." She lifted an eyebrow, clicking a button to remove the roof from her car. "We're gonna have to go naked, ladies and gentlemen – well, the car's gonna have to go naked. Two hot ladies and one sexy man, no way are we covering this shit up."<p>

Dyson rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat to deprive Bo (who'd just claimed her spot in the back) of leg-room (_asshole!_) and snorting. "Yes girls, you look quite lovely. Lets not make a big deal of this, I just wanna get laid and leave. Unless one of you women want to help with that," he waggled his eyebrows.

"Uh, gross!" Tamsin spoke for Bo as she revved the engine and started toward the bar. "In your wet dreams. Tonight is about helping Bo get Lauren – or show Lauren up – er, what exactly is the plan here?"

"Should you be driving?" Bo interrupted. "You're not the most reliable designated driver, maybe we should've gotten a taxi."

"Don't worry, two drink limit for me. I'm on a cleansing ritual," Tamsin explained, flashing a smile.

"A cleansing ritual?"

"Yes. You've never heard of it? I'm going a whole month without drinking much, then I'll get super drunk so I feel the effects better. Because you know, when you don't drink for awhile, it hits you more."

"Spoken like a true alcoholic," Bo chuckled. "Seriously though, I don't think that's a thing."

Tamsin shrugged. "It is now. And don't try to change the subject. What's the plan?"

"The plan? Were you _there_ at work? Did you see how she treated me? Me, her trainer! So unprofessional! What kind of person comes in on the first day of a new job, and calls someone out like that for no good reason. I would never want to pick up a girl with that kind of ego."

"Ohhhhhh, I get it. So that's why you decided to go to a bar after swearing them off, and that's why you're wearing this dress. Because you have no interest at all! It all makes sense now!"

Dyson snorted, only half-listening and Bo rolled her eyes, shaking her head as a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I didn't say I have no interest _at all_. I do have interest – in showing her how hot I am outside of hideous work attire, but that's _it_. I do think leather would've done the trick as well," she added thoughtfully.

"No, this is perfect," Tamsin smiled. "I wish Kenzi was here, though," she frowned. "I was just thinking about what she'd say if she saw you now..."

"Change out of that goddamn dress and put on some leather?" Dyson offered and Tamsin whacked at him from the driver's seat.

* * *

><p>After another 10 minutes of Tamsin mentally preparing Bo for the experience <em>("don't do anything I wouldn't do," "so I can do basically anything?"), <em>they arrived at the bar's parking lot.

"Well. This is it," Tamsin said, getting up and slamming the car-door dramatically. "Are you ready?"

"Girl, I'm going to the bar, not giving birth to my first child. I'll be fine. It's Dyson you wanna watch out for," she teased.

_The Dawning_ had remained the most popular bar in town for years, and it being a Saturday night meant a mob of a line and clusters of dancing, screaming, drunk people, all invigorated by the consuming music bouncing off the walls. Luckily, the three had arrived early enough that they missed the worst of the line, and got in fairly quickly, Tamsin and Bo sticking close to each other and Dyson disappearing before they even got a chance to discuss the plan. Tamsin had her phone out, fingers dancing across the keys as the two of them pushed through the crowd, scaling the area for an empty table, or two empty seats at the bar.

"Lauren texted me, she's already here!" Tamsin yelled over the music, snagging two drinks from the bartender (one for each of them), but unable to find a seat.

"What'd you say!"

"Lauren! She's here!"

"Oh! Tell her to come find us!" Bo paused, claiming her gin and tonic, _extra strong_. "Wait, is she here by herself? Isn't she supposed to be super smart or something? Why would she enter a bar full of drunk sleazebags on her own?" she yelled.

Tamsin shrugged, acting as most of the strength in pushing through people to create a path for Bo and herself. Somehow she managed to (somewhat) clear out the crowd while texting - a multi-talented individual.

"An empty table!" Tamsin screamed. "Run before someone gets it!" Bo, however, didn't have to do any running, as Tamsin dived through the crowd like a hungry animal, tearing through anyone in her way and claiming the table before anyone even noticed the vacancy.

"Well done," Bo chuckled, following at her own, civilized pace then taking a seat across from her friend. "Very sexy dive. Your future husband, or wife, will be quite lucky."

Tamsin made a face. "Hey. Who's the one doing all the work here?"

"Touche," she laughed. "So, um, tell Lauren to meet us in front of the big… unsettling picture," Bo raised an eyebrow at the large painting hovering over their table, the thing containing a hairy man with only a patch of grass covering his genitals – he was at some sort of a jungle party, but his peers were merely blurs in the background, highlighting his nudity. She shuddered.

"No need," Tamsin smirked, pointing to Bo's right at the approaching figure. Lauren, who somehow emptied a passage of people as if walking a red carpet, was clad in a steel-black dress, a line of buttons down the middle with the first two undone to display a tasteful amount of cleavage. The dress was even shorter than Bo's and her legs seemed to extend for miles - Bo would need to stare for much longer than the five seconds she allowed herself to fully appreciate their toned muscle masking delicate, tanned femininity. Her hair (which Bo could tell always looked perfect) lied in loose waves, decorating her otherwise naked shoulder-blades. She approached in gentle strides despite the high-heels.

Bo was unsure how long she'd been holding her breath and staring for, and was much too enamored by the figure before her to notice the one standing next to it, -and if she had, she may have not been victim to a loud, sarcastic whisper from Tamsin ("_keep your jaw shut, we talked about this"_).

"Lauren," was all Bo could say, holding her breath, this time purposely to avoid the woman's scent – she likely smelled amazing – and if Bo let herself take it in, she doubted she could control her desire any longer. "Lauren." Bo repeated, this time in a tone laced with spite as she remembered their earlier exchange.

"Hi, Bo and Tamsin," Lauren smiled softly as if the brawl earlier had never happened, revealing a row of perfect teeth. "This is my girlfriend, Nadia," she gestured to the person beside her, a slightly shorter woman with deep, chocolate skin, thick curls and a curvy body highlighted by a light blue dress.

"Girl – what," Bo stuttered, the word caught in her throat as Tamsin snorted "_plot twist!_" under her breath. "Oh! Girlfriend! Hi Nadia!" Duh, Lauren was from the south (UCLA counted as the south, right?) She must be one of those people who used girlfriend when referring to friends. "I'm Bo and this is my girlfriend, Tamsin," Bo retorted - two could play that game! She didn't particularly like when people used _girlfriend_ to describe friends who were girls, but if that was her vocabulary, the brunette had no right to question it.

Upon hearing Bo's comment, Tamsin nearly choked on her drink.

Lauren raised a perfect eyebrow, eyes flitting between her blonde and brunette co-workers. "I didn't realize you two were dating," she commented, threading her fingers with Nadia's. "Interesting. You both look beautiful, by the way," she added sincerely.

Bo stared at Lauren with a blank expression as Tamsin thanked her and returned the compliment, followed by a moment of silence, the music's vibration suddenly appealing as Bo took a long sip of her drink. She didn't know why she was so surprised Lauren had a girlfriend – like an actual _girlfriend_, not a friend who was a girl – she supposed, after the comment at work and her reaction (or what Bo thought her reaction was) to her brief flirting, she'd assumed Lauren was single. _Available_. Not that she wanted anything serious with a girl so full of herself, but harmless flirting wouldn't hurt.

Now that she'd gotten herself into this mess, at the expense of Tamsin, she stubbornly refused to back down. "Have a seat, both of you!" she yelled over the music, more cheerfully than natural as she smacked her near-empty drink back onto the table. "So, how'd you two meet? Tammy and I actually met at the coffee shop, didn't we babe?" she smiled over at her friend.

"I'm gonna need another drink," Tamsin replied, rising at once.

"Same here, actually. Take this," Bo shoved a wad of cash in her "girlfriend's" direction and Tamsin raised an eyebrow.

"Girl, I don't need that. I've got these babies," she said, pulling down her shirt a bit to reveal a more accentuated swell of cleavage.

"O_f course_. I know all about those babies," Bo winked and Tamsin gave her a _you're in serious trouble _glare as she left for the bar, leaving Bo alone with Lauren and Nadia.

Lauren seemed to be enjoying herself, quietly sipping her drink and wearing a dark smile that made Bo uncomfortable as she glanced between the two of them.

"We met at UCLA, actually. It was in a psych class," Lauren said. "We got paired together and… you know," she smiled widely and Nadia glowed pink, looking away to hide the depths of her blush. "She moved here with me so we could spend the summer together." Lauren explained.

_So they're already basically living together_. Tamsin better be fixing her a strong-ass drink.

"I need to use the bathroom," Nadia muttered suddenly. "I'll be right back, babe, save my seat," she kissed Lauren on the cheek and rose in an action that seemed somewhat forced. Giving Bo one last friendly smile, she disappeared into the encompassing crowd of drunk dancers.

"So, you and Tamsin?" Lauren pursed her lips, watching her girlfriend as she departed. "I wouldn't have guessed. You didn't say anything at work," she added, licking her lips.

"Yeah, well, I like to keep things professional in a professional environment."

"Of course."

"Yeah, some people obviously never got that memo," she glared, waiting for an apology.

Lauren turned to face Bo, leaning her elbows on the table and scooching forward so their faces were level, allowing Bo a better glimpse of her cleavage. "I don't like to beat around the bush about things, you know," she said softly, and Bo could smell the woman's minty breath as she inhaled, trapped by the closeness of her deep, brown eyes. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but the song changed and Lauren snapped back into reality, standing up. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna make sure Nadia's okay. She shouldn't have left by herself.. er, I'm not leaving you alone either, don't worry. Tamsin's coming with drinks," she gestured toward the rapidly approaching blonde figure.

Lauren was taken. _Taken_. Although Bo didn't know exactly how serious her relationship with Nadia was, and as much as she used to sleep around, she never and would never interfere in other's situations. Whatever these were, these feelings of lust that teased her stomach, she had to put them aside – plus, she was "dating" Tamsin, as far as Lauren was concerned, and now she had to keep up that façade so her new co-worker didn't think her a liar. Basically, any small hope she had of her instant chemistry with the woman developing into something had to vanish with her drink.

But, as Lauren brushed into Bo's bare arm heading toward the bathroom, she couldn't help the path of goose bumps that crawled down her skin. The large hairy-man-painting cast dark eyes down on her.


	4. Lauren's Facade

A/N: Finally some background on Lauren. Please note, holes in the plot will come together.

**_Chapter 4_**

**_Los Angeles, CA – One Month Ago_**

Nadia looked frustrated. "I don't understand. You hardly need the money."

Lauren sighed, lowering herself onto the white, cushioned chair of her balcony, raised high enough to award her a stellar view of the city. Large buildings, humble browns and grey-tinted whites lined together like dominos, the echoes of footsteps heard faintly among the blurs of people, as the occasional loud noise of a car's horn, a bell or an engine revving rhythmically teased the surface of the air. She loved this, this country-style-villa she had in a mostly-urban area, like a scarlet rose among the dusty thorns.

Her place stood out, and Lauren had claimed it as hers the moment she saw the ad. She'd inherited wealth from her family, so money was never an issue – she'd never worked a low-paying job for long, only temporarily taking on the duty of restaurant manager in her high-school years for the experience. If anyone heard she was abandoning her haven in LA for a minimum-wage summer job at a coffee shop in Vancouver, they'd probably snort in her face. But, remembering all that Trick, her ex-mentor, had done for her over the years, she knew she owed him. She was someone who'd work without expecting pay, someone who was always reliable - the sort of dependability his coffee shop needed.

Unfortunately, there was the issue of Nadia – and Lauren called it an issue because, under normal circumstances, she wouldn't leave the girl alone for two months. She doubted her girlfriend cared to leave her life and family in LA for the cold, dreary scape of Vancouver anyhow. But, Lauren's coming departure happened to be partially _because_ of Nadia.

Not that she didn't love Nadia – they'd been together for nearly a year, and Nadia was the first person who seemed to genuinely care about her, rather than using her for the endless supply of wealth. She struggled, only because her love for Nadia wasn't the all-consuming love, the "fairy-tale" love she constantly read about. It revolved around a deep amount of care, but there was nothing electric about it – then again, real life never modeled fiction and she shouldn't give up a normal, healthy relationship because something wasn't magical, right?

The part that troubled Lauren was that their relationship hadn't always been like this. Their first two months together, with Lauren experiencing her first ever girlfriend and Nadia completely in-love, had been magical – the constant, ebbing need to be with her, her thoughts revolved around the girl, the warmth that spread through her whole body in her presence.

And then, just like that, it stopped.

Lauren, being the type of person to analyze everything, had to consider why she no longer felt the same. She concluded that she'd grown weary. Keeping up with Nadia began to feel like a chore, a 24/7 obligation to keep her happy. Daily sex became weekly sex. All-night, deep conversations developed into petty small talk. This, she reasoned, couldn't be normal – and so, after dragging it out and praying the chemistry would return, about a month ago she sat Nadia down and had "the talk." She explained everything she felt and hoped her girlfriend would know where they should go from there.

Nadia had responded by insisting every relationship was like this – the beginning magic of discovering a new love was a fleeting façade of a feeling, while what they had was comfortable and healthy. And so, Lauren nodded and went on with her life, hoping her first love was right.

But, as things remained tiresome between the two of them, Lauren considered her trip to Vancouver to be their opportunity. Three months apart meant time to process feelings and decide if they were better off apart.

Lauren wet her lips, gazing out to the city longingly, inhaling deeply as if taking her last breath of sweet city toxins. "It's not just that… yes, I want to help Trick, but there are other ways I could help him. I know he'd never take donations, but there's stuff I could do to support his shop from LA. This is for us too," she explained carefully. "I think we need this. There's something that's… died, in our relationship." Like a flower at the end of spring.

Moisture teased Nadia's eyelids upon hearing the words – it was a silent, expectant cry, rather than a sudden, loud bawl. She'd known this was coming. She blinked rapidly, nodding as if understanding what Lauren was saying, but still struggling to accept it as she choked out words. "So… you'd rent a house, get settled, then what. Just start the job?"

Lauren nodded. "I probably wouldn't start working for another month. But I'd be gone for three months, total."

Nadia looked away, not wanting Lauren to see her like this, as she bit the sadness from the corner of her lip. "We'd be on a break, then?"

Lauren nodded again. "Mhm. So, we could see other people. Then process our feelings," Lots of feelings. Lots of processing.

Nadia tilted her head, slighting facing Lauren. "I'll agree to that under one condition… you let me visit you for the first day of your new job. I want to hear how everything is. Then, we spend one last night together, just you and me as if we're still a couple. I want you to have something to remember me by that's not an ugly, red face of tears when you're making your decision," she sighed, using her fist to smudge the moisture from her eyes. "Because I already know mine. I want you."

Lauren smiled sadly. "I'll always remember you as beautiful, Nadia. But still, I'd like that."

**_Present day, Three hours before bar-scene_**

Lauren hadn't fully processed the childish way she'd acted during her first day at The Dal. It wasn't _her_. As if some sort of alternate-universe Lauren had inhabited her body and said those things – Bo must think she was a complete self-centered bitch (well, not _must_ think, _did_ think – she'd made her opinion quite clear).

_What was it about that girl?_ She supposed, she was so used to a life secluded from people, tangling herself in her school-work and only making time for Nadia and her family, that she'd forgotten to check out the manual of co-worker etiquette. She'd been so tired of holding things back, of the months she'd spent procrastinating _the talk_ with Nadia that she'd vowed to use the experience as a lesson in the importance of honesty. But, she realized, her earlier actions had taken this quest for honesty a step too far.

Being alone in Vancouver had gotten to her too, she reasoned, as she began doing some nerve-related tidying of her kitchen. That, and then throw in the fact that today was the first time she'd see Nadia in a month, and she was a complete mess. Calling Bo out had felt good – cleansing – it may not all have been _true_ per say, but remembering her reaction caused a trace of a smile to cross Lauren's lips. Her anger was cute, almost endearing – but Lauren refused to look at it as anything more than that. Today was the day she'd promised to Nadia, and she'd be a terrible person to spend it fawning over Bo.

What many people didn't know about Lauren was how often she doubted herself. The confident façade she put on at times was just that – a façade. Take away the lethal tongue and outer appearance of barbie-doll hair and flawless physique, all that remained was a mush of thrumming nerves. She realized she'd let Bo see a glimpse of her true self, when Bo had whispered (flirted) into her ear, and her automatic response was to take a defensive-stance, to be an even bigger jerk. She sighed, feeling the guilt numbing her stomach, yet still knowing she wouldn't apologize or back down – she couldn't stand the thought of Bo seeing her true self. She hated feeling so completely naked.

She was willing to feel naked in other ways, though. Lauren began changing into her skimpy black _fuck me_ dress, seeing as she had two reasons to look hot today. Nadia would arrive in an hour, and she was meeting her co-workers at the bar. It'd be their first glimpse of her outside the work environment, and so cue plan _wow-effect_.

Lauren found that the former reason was a more accurate explanation for her choice of attire than it should be. Yes, it'd be nice to see Nadia, but a part of her also dreaded it. She felt much less excited than she should. The first few days in Vancouver, she'd missed the girl a lot, calling her late at night and even writing her a letter – For a moment she thought maybe they did have a chance to rekindle their bond. But, as she became immersed in the new atmosphere, she began to forget about her girlfriend (ex-girlfriend?) And today, upon starting her new job and meeting the outgoing Tamsin and alluring Bo, she hadn't thought of Nadia once – until she realized that each tick of the clock brought her a second closer to the girl's arrival.

The sense of dread plagued her because she knew that whatever happened, it wouldn't end well for Nadia – internally, Lauren had already made her decision. She couldn't stay with her girlfriend while thinking of another girl in a less-than-innocent way.

She'd give Nadia the one night she had promised, but not without dreading the conversation and hurt that'd follow.


	5. Confessions

A/N: Thank you for your kind comments! Please continue to R&R!

**_Chapter 5_**

**_~Back to Present~_**

With just the two of them remaining at the table, Tamsin took the opportunity to give Bo a long, hard glare as she set their drinks down. "Get me out of this mess, now," she demanded.

Bo shook her head. "Why? You can't do me this one teensy favor? You're hardly putting your neck on the line."

"Hardly putting my –" the blonde raised an eyebrow so high it nearly fell off her forehead. "Are you kidding me? Do you not realize what your little _stunt _is costing me? I didn't come to the bar just for you, you know. Yes, helping you was part of it, but I actually wanted to pick up someone for myself," she hissed. "Now I'm stuck here playing wifey. And you're gonna make me break my cleansing ritual," she pouted, staring into the hallow liquid of her half-empty glass.

Bo snatched away her drink. "That's enough! You're driving, remember? And I'm sorry, but I'm not asking you to spend all your time with me. It's just one night. You begged me to come here and now you can't do me one favor? Besides, I already told Lauren we don't do PDA at work, so after tonight all you have to do is say we're dating if the conversation comes up and voila. End of your obligation," she made a swooping gesture with her hand. "I wouldn't want you to have to put an extra perfectly painted toenail out of line," she added bitterly.

Tamsin leaned closer to Bo so she could be heard over the rumble of music. "Oh yeah? You realize we're not the only ones involved in this. We're gonna have to get Kenzi and Dyson, and hell, Trick, to lie for us too. And what happens if we go to a bar with them again – swallow, rinse, repeat, same shit over and over? You need to think before you say," she huffed.

Tamsin was getting angrier than normal and it made Bo weary. She wondered if there was some underlying cause for her friend's behavior, as Tamsin was normally not someone who'd so obstinately oppose something as trivial as playing fake-girlfriend. Normally, she dove head-first into this type of stunt. Bo's expression softened slightly as she looked at her friend, examining her carefully as if searching for signs of deception or hidden emotion.

"We'll pose a break-up, then," Bo suggested. "I'm just asking you to keep the facade up for a week or two so Lauren doesn't think I'm a big, fat, liar. Pleaseeeee, TamTam, I'm begging you. I'll owe you." She clasped her hands together, fully prepared to get down on her knees and quite literally beg for Tamsin's support.

Tamsin's glare remained as she crossed her arms, but when she opened her mouth Bo could see the first sign of surrender in her eyes. "Will you take my shift tomorrow?"

Bo nodded.

"And give me money for gas?"

Bo nodded again.

"Let me pick the radio station for the rest of the month?"

"Sure, why not."

"Let me borrow your leather?"

"Uh-huh."

"Do the cleansing ritual with me?"

"OKAY, that's enough," Bo laughed, swallowing the remainder of Tamsin's drink pointedly. "You peaked at the leather. So, do we have a deal?"

Tamsin nodded, a grimace still scarring her otherwise flawless features. "I guess. You better fucking love me, though."

"I already do!" Bo exclaimed, suddenly feeling the effects of the drink. She felt lighter, the buzz around her causing the corners of her lips to curve upwards. She gazed, entranced, at the flashing, colorful lights overhead that dripped over the dance floor, skipping to the beat of pop music. "I suddenly feel like dancing. Would you like to join me?"

Tamsin raised an eyebrow. "Did someone put something in your drink? You realize this little act is only for Lauren, right?" the blonde teased. She'd need at least three more drinks to take to Bo's suggestion. "Besides, we're supposed to wait for Lauren and Nadia. I can't believe _I'm_ the responsible one here."

"Oh, right," Bo giggled, leaning back in her seat. "I just… really feel like dancing..." her blue eyes glowed as she scanned the tempting crowd. "This place is _dripping_ with sex. Maybe I'll ask someone to dance…"

"How about her?" Tamsin suggested, pointing to the approaching figure of a tall, breath-taking blonde with magazine-worthy physique – aka, Lauren. She'd returned, with no Nadia in sight.

"Funny," Bo drawled, then glanced at her new-coworker as the woman reached earshot. Bo raised an eyebrow, speaking over the back-ground noise. "Lauren… where's your girlfriend?" She looked sadly into her empty glass, casting a side-glance at Tamsin. "We're gonna need a whole tray of these," she mumbled.

Tamsin perked up, rising once again. "No problem, _sweetie_. I'll leave you two be," she smirked, ruffling Bo's hair as she headed toward the bar. Bo wondered if she ought to admonish her friend for going off on her own again, but knew the woman had a black-belt in taekwondo or something impressive like that and would likely snort in her face. The strength of one Tamsin was equivalent to that of a pack of ten other people. And the badassery didn't remotely compare.

Bo smoothed out her hair nervously, then allowed herself to face Lauren again. It wasn't exactly an effortless task, looking at someone so gorgeous and keeping her composure, but she thought she was doing a semi-decent job given the circumstances.

Lauren sighed softly before speaking. "Nadia, she um. Had to go…"

It took Bo a moment to remember the conversation topic. She sucked in a breath, not sure if it'd been Tamsin's smartest idea to leave her alone with the woman. But then, Lauren's sullen expression held so much more innocence than present in the earlier Lauren, once again allowing Bo to see beyond her self-assured exterior. The woman before her was an enigma, and - maybe it was the alcohol speaking - but Bo thought there was more to her than first impression suggested.

Struggling between wanting to ask why and knowing she ought to give Lauren her privacy, Bo remained silent for a few moments, twirling her straw through the confines of her empty glass, hoping Lauren would take the opportunity to explain.

"Have you ever felt –" Lauren started, then stopped mid-sentence. She shut her mouth and looked away.

"Felt what?"

Someone near the bar spilled a drink and let out a loud squeal. A couple on the dance floor began shedding clothing, biting and licking the entirely of each other's faces like rabid animals. The music thrummed louder - the bar's door opened and closed rhythmically, letting new people in and releasing those finished with their evenings at a steady pace. Bo bit the pink flesh of her lip, feeling the buzz of the surrounding air but in the moment only perceiving the woman before her.

"Felt trapped," Lauren dead-panned. "Like you have everything and nothing at the same time. Say… someone has all the money they'd ever need, a wonderful, caring family and girlfriend, one of the sharpest brains of the century, the career of their dreams and the ability to get whatever they want… but still feels empty."

Bo raised an eyebrow. "Why are you working at The Dal if you don't need money?"

"I said someone; not me. A fictional someone."

"Why is the fictional someone working at The Dal if they don't need money."

Lauren sighed, biting her lip. Bo stared at Lauren's tooth sinking into the soft flesh, wishing it was her mouth and teeth there instead. _Stop it_.

"Just, hear me out," Lauren continued. "The _fictional_ someone has all that stuff, but still feels empty. Like none of it matters if his or her life is devoid of fiery love. You know, the burning fairy-tale love that's like a dancing flame. A love that gets hotter and hotter with every encounter…" she trailed off.

Bo inhaled deeply, gin and tonic thick on her breath as she tried to formulate the most intelligent response possible despite feeling the drink's numbing effects. She would give Lauren the _sober response _she deserved. "Well," she paused, gathering her thoughts. "Maybe if that someone had a… fiery love, or whatever poetic term you'd prefer. That would make everything in their life seem better. If you have that kind of chemistry with someone, it should allow you to be the best person you can possibly be. But being in a dead-end relationship will only make things worse for yo—the fictional someone," she explained, catching herself. "Being alone is better than being with someone you don't love. If you're alone, at least you can focus on _you_ without having to worry about another person," Bo finished.

Lauren suddenly became occupied by the intersecting lines on her palms.

"Or," Bo continued, glancing at the bar to see what was taking Tamsin so long. "That someone could just try tight leather. It really does make everything better."

She laughed softly - the sing-song sound of Lauren's laugh soothed Bo's ears and suddenly she felt the heat of the dim light over-head, its warmth spreading through her body and burning a smile onto her lips. She thought she'd have trouble going a day without hearing the sound of this woman's laugh.

Feeling a sudden burst of confidence, she brought back her serious tone. "So um, if you don't mind me asking… I've been wondering. At work, you seemed to know Trick. You called him your ex-mentor. What's that about?" she queried, hoping she wasn't pushing the limits of their sudden bonding.

"That," Lauren started, the after-effects of her chuckle still embedded on her lips. "Is a story for another day."

"What's a story for today, then?" Bo pressed. "I want to know the _real_ Lauren Lewis."

Lauren bit her lip again, clearly struggling. "Okay, fine. I lied. Nadia isn't my girlfriend… well, not anymore." She paused to let that sink in with Bo. "I just, got caught up. We were supposed to pretend, just for today, that we were a couple and I thought if I told you she was only visiting, it wouldn't seem as real for us. We broke up before I moved here, and this was supposed to be our last night together for two months... and I ruined it by lying to you and Tamsin. Nadia got mad and thought I was using her, when really I just wanted to try to… feel something, again," she sighed. "It was a spur of the moment comment. Either way, it was selfish. Somehow I always manage to ruin everything..." she trailed off. "I'm happy for you and Tamsin though. You both seem genuinely happy."

Bo felt a stab of guilt about the Tamsin ordeal, but ignored the sensation. "You don't ruin anything," she put a hand atop Lauren's, and a sudden jolt of warmth spread from the space between her fingers to the space between her thighs. "It wasn't selfish. It was human. You don't want to let go of things, even though you know it's over. I... mis-judged you," Bo admitted. "You're not a self-obsessed bitch. And it's my turn to read you now."

She continued. "You try so hard to give others the impression that you're put together and completely aware of everything going on, when really you're fragile and insecure… but you have no idea how to function if people know that. You feel that if someone is nice to you it automatically means you owe them, when life isn't like that. Sometimes people are just nice for the sake of being nice… and if they expect something back, maybe they're not so nice after-all. But, if I've read you correctly…" she paused. "You've been used by a lot of people so you're super careful about who you open up to. Am I close?"

"I'm gonna need another drink."

Bo laughed, feeling the pesky butterflies swirl through her stomach again. "I'm still mad at you," she added. "But you're just so… _sad_, that it's hard to be."

Lauren faced Bo, this time her eyes flooded with genuine emotion as she allowed her hand to remain under Bo's. "I'm sorry. I don't know what had gotten into me. It was inappropriate," she sighed. "Friends?"

Bo, taken aback for a moment, didn't answer immediately. She hadn't expected her demand for an apology to be met. She hadn't coined Lauren for the type to admit her wrong-doing. But, as she was quickly discovering, there was a lot she hadn't_ coined _about Lauren.

"I'd like that," Bo nodded finally, returning her hand to her lap to make it easier to keep things _friendly_. Relinquishing contact of Lauren's warm, comforting skin felt like an icy cold stab in the heart. She met Lauren's gaze, and a tingle crept down her spine.


	6. The Day After

**_Chapter 6_**

"You look like hell," Lauren stated upon Bo's arrival at The Dal.

"Thanks… I feel like it too," Bo moaned, carefully removing her sunglasses and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. _Ugh_. Of all days, she had to be on with Lauren today. Blood-shot blue eyes with eye-lids hanging lifelessly over them, face drained of color and brown hair curled into a tattered bun, uniform reeking of old-coffee (as she lacked time to wash it) and old, baggy jeans plastered to her legs - she didn't exactly scream sex.

Lauren chuckled softly, confusion crossing her expression. "Aren't you supposed to have today off?"

"I told Tamsin I'd take her shift," Bo replied through a yawn, pulling down her hat so it hung over her forehead for protection. No need to explain _why_ the deal with Tamsin was made. She took the next moment to examine the woman before her. Lauren harbored a freshly cleaned uniform that smelled of lilacs, large-brown eyes cloaking perfect skin - not a sign of hang-over or sleep-deprivation tattering her features. Bo narrowed her eyes at her co-worker as she clocked-in. If last night hadn't happened, she'd almost think this woman was unreal.

"Why don't you look –" Bo paused to gesture toward the mess that was herself, "like this."

"I actually didn't drink that much," Lauren admitted. "I had to, you know – drive home."

"Tamsin should take a leaf out of your book," Bo chuckled and rolled her eyes, the events of last night flashing through her mind like parts of a distant dream. Despite her throbbing head, she possessed the gift of a decent drunk-memory, and although she may not have the conversations down word-for-word, she remembered the gist of what had happened. She remembered her request and promise to Tamsin, she remembered her conversation with Lauren and she remembered how the end of the night played out – Tamsin ordering them a plate of drinks but chugging three-quarters by herself, Tamsin up on the table in the center of the dance-floor creating a colossal scene, surrounded by equally drunk people laughing and throwing drinks at her, Lauren and a drunk Bo (although not at Tamsin's level) finally dragging Tamsin outside, Dyson still nowhere in sight – and Lauren driving all of them home.

Bo realized she probably should've called Tamsin to ask if she needed help getting her car back this morning, but unfortunately she'd woken up 30 minutes before her shift, and therefore had to quickly rub toothpaste on her teeth, throw on some clothes, splash cold water over her face and run out the door.

"Thanks, by the way, for the ride…" Bo mumbled, shuffling her feet. She busied herself by washing the back-counter, feeling the discomfort that plagued the air as a result of last night's events. She took a deep breath, realizing she ought to ask about how things went with Nadia, but not emotionally prepared for an answer. If it weren't for the dull aching in her head (three Advils had at least softened the sharp sting) and the fact that everything still felt fuzzy, she may have been able to handle it – but now, she wasn't sure.

"Are you still drunk?" Lauren laughed as she watched Bo trip over her own feet while attempting to scrub under the counter, nearly hitting the ground but catching herself part-way.

Bo grimaced as she maneuvered herself back up, struggling to keep her composure. "No. Things are just… a bit fuzzy. Uhm—" she paused and bit her lip as she decided there'd be no _right time_ to ask about Nadia – she might as well rip the bandage off. "So, um, how'd things end up with your girlfriend—ex girlfriend—whatever you are?" she queried, attempting to keep her tone conversational.

"You remember that, huh?" Lauren bit her lip. "I was hoping, being drunk and all—"

"I have an excellent memory," Bo interrupted. "And I know this was important to you."

Lauren sighed, turning to ring up a customer (Dyson remained in the corner brewing coffees) – it was just past 3 p.m., one of the less busy hours of the day, so thankfully they only had to worry about an occasional order. "Not great," she began, handing the woman her card back. "She's on a plane back to LA… I apologized profusely, but she didn't want to hear it. I probably should've followed her out of the bar right away…"

"Are you okay?" Bo queried, temporarily forgetting her own distraught state as she examined Lauren for signs of scarring.

"I actually am," Lauren offered Bo a broken smile, suddenly taking an interest in organizing the change from the cashier's drawer. "I don't like how we left things, but I'll call her after work… things needed to end somehow," she bit her lip. "Break-ups are never clean, you know?"

Bo nodded. Of course she _knew_. She'd been through her fair share of "break-ups" herself – not on the one-year scale, but the number of people she'd had to reject after long nights of hot sex counted, right? The encounters at least slightly resembled Lauren's situation - people were _crazy_. She had to deal with boys who sent pages and pages of text messages whilst she hadn't responded once (she had to change her number a few times) and girls who showed up at her door the next morning when she didn't wake up next to them. The biggest advantage of her (failed) no-bar policy was avoiding obsessive sexual-partners – a benefit which actually proved more refreshing than she'd imagined.

"Do you know what happened with Dyson?" Bo wondered, lowering her voice so her tattoo'd male co-worker wouldn't hear.

"Apparently he found a chick and got out of there," Lauren laughed softly, and Bo joined in.

"Typical," Bo cast a glance in his direction. "Maybe I should've done the same. Would've avoided this killer hangover," she grinned.

"I don't think Tamsin would be very happy about that," Lauren commented through pursed lips.

_Oh, right._

Bo shrugged and began organizing the pastries. "Of course not. Just a joke." She wasn't sure what compelled her to keep lying, but after starting something, she had difficulty stopping. _No pun intended._ Maybe there was a part of her that wanted Lauren to think she was unavailable, so she wouldn't see Bo as this pathetic woman drooling over her.

"So how long have you two been together?" Lauren pressed, and Bo flinched silently. Lauren neared Bo, reaching toward the same pastry Bo had her (gloved) fingers on, her shoulder touching Bo's in the process. The heat of the blonde's skin on her own caused Bo to jump.

"It goes here," Lauren said softly, picking up the scone and re-positioning it.

Bo's cheeks turned bright red. "Right... I knew that," she shook her head as Lauren, her _trainee_, corrected her.

"Distracted?" Lauren said in a sing-song voice, her confidence from yesterday returning to her tone as she faced Bo.

"Hung-over," Bo corrected, the remnants of the blush still heavy on her cheeks. "Oh, and um.. we've been together a couple months," she said quickly, mindlessly tacking-on additional parts to her tangle of a lie.

"I thought you've only been working here a month? You said you met at the coffee shop," Lauren raised an eyebrow, catching Bo's slip-up immediately. "You're not the only one with a memory."

Bo's stomach plummeted. She stuffed some pastries under their glass shields (likely in an incorrect order) as she struggled to continue to cover her tracks. She felt Lauren's dark eyes burn into the fragile exterior of her skin.

Suddenly she craved her sunglasses.

"Oh, yeah. Wow, it _has_ only been a month," Bo sighed, turning to face Lauren nervously. "Time sure does go by fast, huh?"

"Indeed," Lauren said quietly, and Bo didn't like the knowing curve of her lips, as if the conniving Lauren from yesterday had returned in full-force.

Silence, only disturbed by the swing of the front-door, followed their short, weary discussion. On cue, a wave of customers flooded the store's entrance. Bo found herself grateful for the distraction they provided, as she supplied them pastries. The extra-second glances from greasy-haired male customers (more-so toward Lauren than her disheveled self) didn't even bother her today, as she provided her painted smile to each person, hoping the slight dimple cut into the center of her cheek would be enough to get them to take their food and leave.

Or they could stay and chat. Normally she didn't care to engage in small-talk with her customers, but today it served as another distraction from uncomfortable chatter with Lauren. She found herself complimenting more people than usual, asking questions that required more than yes-or-no answers. Her stalling turned what could easily have been a half-an-hour wave into nearly 50 minutes, and she was both impressed and ashamed of herself.

As the number of customers dwindled once again and Lauren left to bring dishes to the back, Dyson passed Bo, stopped at her side and gave her a slow-clap.

"Well done, Dennis. You efficiently turned what could've been an easy bout of people into a drawn-out social affair."

Bo scowled. "Oh, please. Like you had anything better to do."

Dyson raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to be the one in charge of making drinks? Serving pastries is one thing, you pick one up and hand it over, the expresso machine on the other hand—"

"Hey, I don't just hand them over! Sometimes I have to warm them up too.." she stopped as she realized how ridiculous she sounded."Okay, okay, I get it! I'm sorry. I just –" she bit her lip, casting a side-glance toward the back to make sure Lauren wasn't in sight, then lowered her voice. "Didn't want to continue conversing with _her_."

"Is this about her calling you out yesterday?" Dyson frowned. "I thought you two were over that."

Bo shook her head. "No. Look, I don't have time to explain now," she hissed as Lauren approached. "Call Tamsin after work, she'll catch you up."

Dyson gave Bo a creased-forehead expression that clearly stated he didn't actually care and was only trying to make conversation. _Asshole_.

"What you're feeling now is guilt," Lauren chimed in. "That reddish flush on your face, the beads of sweat on your neck, the way your back is taking on a cramped posture… something's bothering you."

Bo turned to offer Lauren a fresh look of menace. "Yeah _something_ sure is bothering me. I thought you finished this attempting – and failing - to read me thing."

"I had," Lauren started. "But I don't think you're being honest with me."

"You don't think I'm dating Tamsin?"

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

Lauren took a step closer, and Bo felt an involuntary shiver run from her cheeks, down her stomach, and lower to her –

"I suppose," Lauren ran her finger across her lower lip and that all-too-familiar heat-wave continued to torment Bo. "Although I wouldn't make so bold a statement. I simply pointed out the inaccuracies in your facts."

"And I pointed out that people make mistakes. We're only human." If Bo had planned on coming clean about Tamsin at any point, Lauren's response only made her change her mind completely. She thrust her chin out stubbornly, like a child who'd gotten her toy taken away.

But then Lauren surprised her. Again.

"Okay," Lauren said simply.

"Okay? That's it?"

"Yes. Okay. If you're telling me something is true. I should trust you. You're right. It's selfish of me to keep questioning you, and… _I'msorryIwaswrong_."

"What? I don't think I heard those last words clearly." Bo smirked.

"Oh, please," Lauren rolled her eyes. "This is the second time I've apologized and we've known each other two days, don't act like it's something I don't do. Besides," she licked her lips and Bo gulped. "Before this.. dispute.. happened, I was going to ask if you wanted to come over and hang out, watch a movie or something after work. I need to make friends here and clearly I suck at it."

Bo raised an eyebrow.

"I have alcohol," Lauren added. "Just two friends, hanging out. Come on, it'll be fun! I'll behave myself."

Just herself and newly-single Lauren who caused rounds of flips to tease her stomach, while Bo had to keep up the girlfriend façade in a house with alcohol. What could possibly go wrong?

"Fine," Bo agreed. "But try to analyze me one more time and I'm out."

"Deal," Lauren grinned, and glanced up at the clock. 5 P.M. "Looks like my shift is done," she grinned, clocking out. "Enjoy your next 2 hours with Dyson. See you after work."

Bo watched nervously as Lauren swept her hair behind her back and sauntered out of the shop.


	7. More Confessions

**_Chapter 7_**

An entire closet of clothes lay sprawled out on the floor of Bo's room. She was ashamed of the amount of thought she put into a _hang-out_ outfit, but nonetheless here she was. In the end, it was leather she'd settled on, a choice in attire she could've came to in less than a minute.

At least she knew all options had been exercised.

Upon her return from work, Bo had answered a call from a very tired, very hung-over Tamsin. Their conversation included surface-level chatter about the events of last-night and Bo ensuring Tamsin got her car back. Tamsin was too sick to indulge Bo further and hung up before Bo could announce her night's plans.

Her stressing felt like deja vu, except instead of going to a bar with thrumming music, intense sexual waves and slimy, drunken sleaze-bags, she was going to a house rented by an exceptionally beautiful, intelligent and _frustrating_ co-worker. And instead of feeling out of place in a revealing red dress, she'd radiate the confidence brought on by tight leather.

Just the two of them. With alcohol.

Bo gulped, not feeling nearly as confident as she should. Plus she had to drive, which meant there was a chance she'd be incapable of driving home and have to sleepover.

Her upper-lip twitched as she mentally prepared herself for the evening.

* * *

><p>Lauren didn't like the feeling teasing her stomach - the nervous ensemble of butterflies twisting and fluttering, the off-beat thrumming of her heart and the flush coating her cheeks.<p>

"This is lust; a common human emotion," she informed her reflection in the mirror. "The dopamine levels in your brain are heightened. Increases in the chemical have been released in your accumbens," Lauren echoed the information she'd learned in her Psych class in hopes that analyzing the science of her emotions would take away the appeal.

It didn't work.

She'd dimmed her lights and lit a scattering of fragrant candles. Beside them rested a bottle of wine and a plethora of snack foods. The lighting allowed an ambient glow to flirt across the confines of her villa as she decorated the air with soft music. Her house smelled like fragrant, dark honey and the flowers lining her windowsill glowed under the romantic lighting. The warmth of the candles' flames toasted her kitchen.

Then she realized she was a fool.

She blew out the candles, one by one, and put them away. She flicked on the lights, returning her home to its default state of gaudy brightness as she stashed the bottle of wine back into her cabinet. In her overwhelming lust, she'd nearly forgotten that this wasn't a date and the girl coming over wasn't single - a fact she'd sworn to trust despite the trail of evidence suggesting otherwise.

She needed to accept that Bo wasn't one of her future clients. She wasn't a tool Lauren could use to practice the necessary skills she'd need as a lawyer.

Lauren ruffled her couch so the cushions didn't look so delicately assembled, and sprawled a wrinkled blanket across its premises. She turned on her television, and put what she believed was the least sexually-stimulating channel on - the News - then lowered the volume to a soft hum. She sat on her couch, and crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, then crossed them again. She paced her living room as the clock frowned down upon her, its minute-hand sticking in place. She turned on her oven and pilfered through her cabinets for something to bake, then gave up and turned it off. She shut the music off and buried her face in her hands as she ran out of options for something to do that didn't look staged.

* * *

><p>Darkness encompassed the air as Bo made her way through the winding roads, following the directions Lauren had texted her earlier. The moon shone overhead, smirking down on her as she struggled to pinpoint the correct location. Finding things had never been her strong suit.<p>

It took her ten minutes longer than it should have to locate the perfectly manicured house that was the temporary rental of Lauren Lewis. Her lip quivered slightly as she got out of her car and slammed the door, admiring the flowers sprawled across Lauren's lawn, highlighted by the street-lamps surrounding the area. She wished there was a way to stop the heavy pounding of her heart, but no matter how many deep inhales she took before approaching Lauren's front-steps, she couldn't coax the feeling away.

* * *

><p>"Bo," Lauren breathed upon opening the door, eyes involuntarily raking over the woman's body and admiring the way her tight-leather accentuated every curve and contour of her figure. She felt shabby in comparison. After going through her closet over and over, she'd settled on a simple sweat-outfit in an attempt to complete the just-friends façade she'd carefully transformed her house into.<p>

To Lauren's dismay, Bo seemed to have caught the trail of her eyes - the way they stopped upon the swell of her breasts and again at her waist. She smiled smugly, rolling her hips as she invited herself in.

"I would've waited for you to ask me in but you seem a little," Bo paused. "Preoccupied."

"Preoccupied? No, not me," Lauren responded as she stared at Bo's ass. Excellent save, Lewis, she applauded.

"You seem on edge," Bo commented. "Time to pop the champagne? Wine? Er – vodka? What's on the menu tonight?" The brunette licked her lips. Lauren noted Bo's confidence had considerably heightened from her aura at work, as she sauntered across Lauren's kitchen, admiring the furnishing of her cabinets and counters, occasionally brushing light fingertips across the edges. She then proceeded to the connected-living room, helping herself to a seat on the blanket sprawled across the couch and crossing her legs. She trained her eyes on the television, but Lauren could tell she wasn't actually watching.

She figured it was about time to start acting like a host, but the new sense of confidence in Bo was incredibly sexy and Lauren had trouble diverting her line of sight.

Bo spun her head around and Lauren quickly looked down, busying herself by arranging the drinks on the counter. She was losing the control she'd somewhat had over Bo before, and it made her uncomfortable.

"We have basically everything," Lauren announced, surprised at how well she'd managed to get the security in her tone to contrast from the mush of emotions inside her. "Red and white wine, Bud Light and Coors over here and the stronger Heady Topper types over there. Tequila, champagne, probably more vodka than you'll find at the liquor store," she grinned proudly at her ensemble of Svedka, Smirnoff, Grey Goose, Kettle One _and so much more_ that barely fit upon the broad platform of her counter-top. "You name it, I have it."

"My, my, Miss Lewis," Bo smiled as she rose from the couch. "Did you go on a liquor run just for me?"

Lauren shook her head. "I always like to be prepared," she grinned. "You never know when you'll need it. Plus," she took a step closer to Bo to take advantage of the fabricated-confidence in her voice. She brushed the tips of her fingers down Bo's bare shoulders and bit her own lip. "I enjoy indulging my guests."

She saw the twitch of Bo's throat as she gulped, but didn't comment on it as per their agreement.

"I'll take the strongest thing you have," Bo stated.

Lauren smiled widely, turning away to hide the heightened-upward-curving of her lips as a result of the reaction she'd elicited from Bo.

_1 point for the Lawyer._

"My brother was a bartender for awhile, so I learned to brew all kinds of drinks. I'll make you something that tastes good," Lauren smiled.

Bo raised an eyebrow. "_Gee_, what don't you know how to do."

Lauren frowned. "Lots of things," She began mixing Bo her drink, "I'm far from perfect."

Bo mumbled something inaudibly and Lauren finished preparing both of their beverages.

* * *

><p>"Can we watch something other than the News?" Bo whined as Lauren sat down beside her, placing their drinks on the glass coffee-table that Bo had taken to resting her feet upon. She quickly took them down when Lauren neared, figuring the fancy table wasn't intended as a foot-bed.<p>

"Of course," Lauren smiled warmly as she retrieved the remote and began flipping through the channels. "Tell me when to stop."

"Stop," Bo commanded after about a minute of scanning.

Lauren raised an eyebrow. "What is this crap?" she teased.

"I dunno," Bo yawned impatiently. "But there was nothing else good on, and at least this has a potentially interesting plot-line," she yawned as a man and woman engaged in an intense on-screen dispute.

Lauren rolled her eyes, allowing herself a large gulp of her drink. "Alright, then." She blinked at the television, tuning out the on-screen characters' conversation as she felt the weight of Bo's presence by her hips. She felt in-tune to the woman's every action – the way she'd brush a lock of hair behind her ears once in awhile, the sensual way she'd bite her lower lip and the occasional twitch of her left shoulder blade. Admittedly, she'd prefer engaging in conversation with Bo rather than secluding herself to the television, but she'd need a bit more liquor in her for that to happen.

Lauren smiled tightly when the on-screen couple settled their differences – her only clue of this was when they started making out, as she had no idea of the actual content of their conversation. Their rekindling gave Lauren hope that even pairs with rough edges like herself and Bo had a chance – _to be friends, of course_. She sat there with a goofy smile, eyes flickering over to Bo every couple minutes, noticing the woman actually seemed engaged in what was going on.

Then the on-screen couple began removing their clothing.

First their jackets.

Then their shirts.

Then their pants.

"OKAY," Lauren said loudly, flicking the television off before Bo could see any more.

"Hey, I was watching that." Bo frowned. "I didn't coin you as someone who'd subscribe to porn, though," she smirked.

"I have about every channel there is," Lauren rolled her eyes. "Did you really want to keep watching?"

"I liked the story-line," Bo replied, nearly finishing off her drink with one large swallow.

"Guy on girl doesn't really do it for me," Lauren mumbled.

"Ah. So you're a lesbian," Bo commented offhandedly. "Not that it matters, but I do enjoy learning more about you."

Lauren swallowed the remainder of her own drink then inhaled.

"I grew up in an extremely conservative family," she started, feeling the build-up of liquid confidence as she launched into her story. "I mean, high-end tea party folks. My brother and I had to attend church all-day on Sundays, and follow a strict code of behavior growing up. They're nice people, of course, my family.." she paused, as if not completely committed to the statement. "Just limited in their views. So when they caught me kissing a girl in High-School, I had to attend therapy that aimed to 'Pray-the-gay away.' But in more ways than simply praying, of course."

Bo looked at Lauren with sympathy. Having extremely open family and friends, she couldn't imagine the pain of the woman's situation. "Was it awful?"

"The therapy? Yeah. They pulled all the stops. Prayer, hypnosis, psychotic videos. When I "graduated" my mom set me up with some guy from church, Billy, and although the logical part of my brain knew I was incapable of loving him, the idealistic part of me wanted to try. So I indulged him. I went on dates, brought him home to dinner to please my parents, did um." She coughed. "You know. Sexual things. It was awkward, I—"

"You what?"

"I cried after, a lot," Lauren admitted softly, looking sadly at the floor. Bo touched her hand and Lauren felt warm sympathy spread across the tips of her fingers. "But I kept it up anyway. Until Evony came along," she added.

"I don't consider Evony my first girlfriend like I do Nadia, but she was.. a fling. An incredibly sexy, irresistible fling. She pursued me to no end. I swear, she had some sort of x-ray vision and could see through my façade with Billy. And finally I gave in. And in. And in again."

"Okay, I get it!" Bo interrupted.

"Yeah, well, obviously I didn't stop. And when my parents found out this time, they kicked me out. I was 17. I had nowhere to go, and all there was was Trick who owned the local convenience store. You know he didn't even move to Vancouver until two years ago? I have no idea how he got The Dal up and running so quickly," she mused like a proud parent. "He took me in until I was old enough to go to college. I got accepted into some of the Ivies too, but UCLA offered me a full scholarship and I needed that at the time," she took a deep breath. "It wasn't until last year, on my 20th birthday that my parents finally apologized to me. I was so angry at first. I never wanted to hear from them again. But life is short," she explained. "And I had Nadia by then. We'd just started our relationship and I was finally happy. They offered to buy me a house and support me financially again. So I guess, the thought that they were willing to accept me despite their stringent views, that they actually wanted to make it up to me - even three years delayed - was enough for me to let them back into my life," she bit her lip. "So my family is still important to me. But I call Trick my mentor because he truly taught me to accept myself. He's like an uncle, or a Grandfather.. who really knows how old he is," she chuckled. "So.. that's my story." Well, most of it. She drained the remainder of her glass.

Bo hugged Lauren. It was a long, warm hug. Lauren felt the waves of heat radiating through her. Bo then rested her hand comfortably on Lauren's knee, and looked at her with blue eyes twinkling in genuine empathy.

"You're so strong, Lauren. That must have been so hard for you, feeling like you don't have a home.. I can't imagine." She stopped when the blonde wriggled away from her touch.

"Thanks," Lauren stood up, gathering both of their glasses and heading to the kitchen to refill them.

When she returned, Bo was sprawled out on the couch in such a way that'd force Lauren to touch some part of her to make space. She chose to sit on the chair instead.

"Do I smell?" Bo teased.

"No," Lauren brushed aside her question. "I've told you a lot about me. I want to hear about you now." She folded her hands.

Bo rolled her eyes. "I'm boring. There's nothing to tell."

"I doubt that."

"You figured me out on your own anyway," Bo joked.

"Think of it this way," Lauren chuckled, licking her lips. "If you don't tell me about the real you, all I'll have to go by is my hypotheses. And we all know you're not very fond of those."

Bo felt the warmth of the alcohol flutter in her stomach. "What if I told you they were right."

"What, which one was right? The one about you staring at my ass?" Lauren tipped her head back in laughter.

"Not just that," Bo took a deep breath, her tone changing from light-hearted to serious. "Everything."


End file.
